


Cuddle Buddies

by diner_drama



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: I want to wrap myself up in this fic like a blanket, Lawyer Steve Rogers, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, cosy as fuck, professional cuddler Bucky Barnes, professional cuddling, seriously just so fucking cosy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27452374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diner_drama/pseuds/diner_drama
Summary: "Cuddle Buddies: professional platonic cuddling therapy services for the busy modern professional" are an entirely legitimate organization serving the touch-starved.Look, it's just been a long time since Steve's been in a relationship, and a guy has needs, you know? Sometimes after a long day of being a strong, hard-nosed solicitor, weathering insults and attacks from the opposing counsel and your own coworkers, you just want to have someone stroke your hair and tell you you're good.Bucky loves his job as a professional cuddler, providing non-romantic physical touch to people that need it, and when his new client turns out to be a pint-sized spitfire with a smile to die for, that's just a bonus.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 48
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

"Rumlow, if I wake up tomorrow to find out that you've thrown my client on an airplane and deported her in the middle of the night I will have your ass in front of the bar association before you can blink," barked Steve into the phone held between his ear and shoulder, trying to get his keys out of his pocket one-handed. "You really think they're going to let this slide after last time?" 

He paused for a second as the person on the other end of the line made a few abortive attempts at a response, then cut him off. "I'm turning off my phone now. If you still want to talk in the morning after considering my offer you can call me then, but if you pull any of your bullshit in the meantime, I will _fucking ruin you_."

Steve hung up the call with a flourish and shouldered his front door open, throwing his phone into a basket on an occasional table before closing the door behind him and leaning against it, rubbing his eyes exhaustedly. Being a hard-ass human rights lawyer was all very well and good during the work day, but by the time he got home Steve was more than ready to shed his tough persona and let himself be soft.

The suit jacket was the first to go, shrugged off his slim shoulders and slipped onto a hanger. Then, his smart, shiny shoes were slipped off and replaced with warm, thick socks. He swapped his starched shirt for an old, lived-in hoodie, and his neatly pressed slacks for sweatpants. His black briefcase found a home in the spare room he used as an office, and he shut the door after it, mentally shutting away his work life. He ran his hand through his smartly-combed hair to muss it up and rolled his shoulders back, taking a few deep breaths and letting the stress of his day roll off him.

He wandered around the living room, picking up a blanket from the steamer trunk by the window, drawing the curtains, and switching on the electric fireplace which filled the space with warmth and low, flickering light. He picked up his personal phone from the coffee table and sent a quick text to Sam to let him know he made it home safely, sent a thumbs up to Darcy in response to a terrible meme she'd sent him, and briefly considered video calling Peggy before remembering that she was in a conference in Singapore.

He flopped down onto the couch and wrapped himself up tight in the blanket, enjoying its weight on his shoulders. Opening his laptop, he coughed in embarrassment when the tab that he'd opened in a fit of loneliness last night popped up. "Cuddle Buddies: professional platonic cuddling therapy services for the busy modern professional" seemed to be an entirely legitimate organization serving the touch-starved, and they had excellent reviews.

Look, it's just been a long time since Steve's been in a relationship, and a guy has needs, you know? Sometimes after a long day of being a strong, hard-nosed solicitor, weathering insults and attacks from the opposing counsel and your own coworkers, you just want to have someone stroke your hair and tell you you're good. Steve did his best to keep his work and home lives separate, but lately it was getting difficult to switch off from his worries when he was lying in bed at night, going over details from his cases while he tossed and turned on his pillows. 

He scrolled through the information on the website one more time, thinking about how it might feel to invite a stranger into his home to cuddle him. Would it be uncomfortable? Would they think he was pathetic? 

Putting aside the laptop for a minute, he ambled back into the kitchen to re-heat some shepherd's pie and put on the kettle for a cup of tea, climbing on a step stool to reach the mugs. His fingers and toes still a little chilly from the crisp autumn evening outside, he decided to fill up a hot water bottle, tucking it carefully into its fluffy case and holding it under his arm as he brought his dinner and drink back to the table. After a couple of bites of the pie, he pulled out a neat little wicker basket from under the table and took out his evening medications. Tapping the pills into his hand, he swallowed them with a gulp of tea and took a couple of huffs of his steroid inhaler for good measure, before getting back to his meal.

Steve may have lost the genetic lottery when it came to his height and his abysmal health, but the gods had seen fit to bless him with more than his share of sheer, bloody-minded scrappiness, which he felt more than made up for it.

Once he'd cleared the plate away and made himself a second cuppa, he opened up a book on his e-reader and held the comforting, warm weight of the hot water bottle to his chest, wondering idly, not for the first time, whether he should get a cat. He was a couple of chapters into a mediocre romance novel when he started tapping his fingers, thinking.

After a brief moment of indecision, he grabbed the laptop with renewed certainty and began to type a request into the website.

* * *

Bucky was just waving goodbye to Nat as he walked away from their session when his phone chimed, alerting him that there was a new customer inquiry that the agency wanted him to look at.

**Maria:** 28 yo man in Red Hook interested in trying cuddle therapy to help with work stress. Would prefer male therapist. Due to asthma, no cologne or scented products, and non-smokers only.

He smiled, and shot off a quick affirmative response. Maria often sent him their new clients - there was something about him that reassured people if they felt a little unsure about the services. Bucky was perfectly happy with his chosen profession - non-romantic physical touch was, in his opinion, essential for a happy life, and he got to provide it to people that needed it. Bucky liked to observe people and through his job he'd met a wide array of curious characters, so the work was never boring.

Also, the pay was amazing and Alpine would only eat the expensive cat food, so there was that.

He continued on his journey, enjoying the changing leaves on the trees around him and the chill in the air. Just as he was about to step onto the subway, his phone buzzed again, and after he found a seat he saw that Maria had sent him the phone number for his new client. He sent off his standard greeting straight away, eager to get his schedule firmed up.

**Bucky:** Hi Steve, this is Bucky from the Cuddle Buddies agency. When works for you for our first meeting? Looking forward to working with you!

**Steve:** Thanks for getting back to me. Saturday evening would be best for my schedule. Can I pay the $80 fee via bank transfer? -Steven Grant Rogers, Shield Solicitors

The response came immediately, and was far more businesslike than his usual interactions with clients. Still, Bucky could be businesslike. He even owned a tie.

**Bucky:** You sure can - the agency should send you out a contract tonight with the bank details. I can do Saturday at 7 if that suits.

**Steve:** Saturday at 7 sounds fine. What are the terms of the contract?

Of course, Mr. Lawyer Man wanted to know about the contract.

**Bucky:** It lays out what to expect in our interactions - we provide purely non-sexual services - as well as how to deal with cancellations, how we protect your privacy, and the billing structure.

**Steve:** Thank you. I look forward to meeting you on Saturday.

Bucky shook his head, wondering how this stuffy, formal guy was going to act during their cuddle session.

* * *

Steve didn't have the opportunity to start feeling anxious about his cuddle appointment because the negotiations with the lawyers at the ICE detention center took up every moment of his time. He was wrapping up his conversation with a client via email in his home office when his alarm chimed to let him know that he had half an hour until Bucky arrived.

After stretching his arms over his head, wincing at the tightness of his shoulders after slouching all day, he stripped out of the pajamas he was still wearing and indulged in a long, hot shower, scrubbing away his stress and emerging pink-cheeked and fluffy-haired. In his bedroom, he changed into a soft blue flannel shirt and a pair of pants that looked like slacks but felt like sweatpants, and another pair of his warm, fuzzy socks.

Pacing around his living room, his nerves ramping up, he selected a different blanket to leave ready on the couch and checked twice on his selection of teas. He had just put the kettle on to boil when the buzzer sounded.

On opening the door, he was immediately reassured to see that Bucky had a friendly, engaging grin, and was wearing a soft, knitted sweater. He held out a hand to shake and then immediately felt like an idiot, but Bucky just grasped Steve's cold hand with his warm one and squeezed it. 

"Hi, you must be Steve," said Bucky with a pleasant Brooklyn drawl. Without being asked, he pulled a Cuddle Buddies ID card out of his pocket and handed it over to Steve, who checked the details on it and handed it back.

"Nice to meet you," said Steve stiffly. "Please, come on in. I'm just making a cup of mint tea, do you want one?"

"That'd be perfect, Steve. Mind if I take my shoes off?"

"Go ahead," replied Steve with a thin smile, attending to the whistling kettle. 

"Thanks," said Bucky when he accepted his cup of tea. Steve couldn't help but notice that Bucky was wearing mis-matched but co-ordinating socks, one with red stars on a white background, and the other with white stars on a red background. He ushered Bucky to take a seat on the couch and sat in the armchair opposite. Bucky's posture was loose and open, but Steve was sitting bolt upright and jiggling his leg nervously. Fortunately, Bucky chose to take the lead in the conversation.

"So, I usually start first sessions with clients by talking about what your goals are for therapy," he began with a reassuring smile. "For example, some clients are looking to feel more comfortable with physical touch, some want to get over a breakup, or reduce stress, and some are just looking for companionship."

"I guess the companionship and stress things," said Steve after thinking for a moment. "My job takes a lot out of me, so I don't really have the time to pursue a relationship, but I do miss that human touch."

Bucky smiled gently, as though what Steve had said wasn't anything out of the ordinary. "What do you do?"

"I'm a lawyer, I mostly represent people who are in danger of deportation," said Steve automatically.

"That sounds rewarding," replied Bucky encouragingly.

"It is," agreed Steve, "but it's incredibly draining. I have to be so hard and tough all the time. Sometimes I think it would be nice to just be..." He tailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence.

"Soft?" supplied Bucky.

Steve smiled, feeling more comfortable despite his misgivings. "Yeah."

"Thank you for being so open with me, Steve," said Bucky, reaching over to squeeze Steve's knee. "If you don't have a particular preference for how we start, how about you join me on the couch and I put my arms around you. Does that sound good?"

Suddenly shy, Steve nodded and moved to sit next to Bucky, who immediately wrapped his big arms around Steve's shoulders and pulled Steve into his broad chest. As requested, Bucky wasn't wearing any fragrance, but he still smelled good, like fresh laundry and crisp autumn air, with an undercurrent of clean skin. 

As he relaxed into Bucky's embrace, Steve tried to remember the last time he'd been held so gently. He was a regular recipient of Sam's big bear hugs and Darcy's chest-crushing squeezes, but he hadn't had a long-term romantic partner since law school, and his career didn't leave him a lot of free time to look for one.

"How does that feel?" asked Bucky in a low, soothing voice, gently rubbing at Steve's shoulder.

"Really good," breathed Steve. 

"I'm glad," said Bucky gently. "How about I lie down on my back here and you snuggle up to my chest?"

Steve nodded his assent and Bucky released him slowly, and then rolled over to lie along the couch, opening up his arms so that Steve could slot himself in to rest his head on Bucky's warm chest. The knit of his sweater was soft against Steve's face, and one of Bucky's big hands came up to cup the back of Steve's head, rubbing small circles at the base of his skull with his fingertips.

"Thanks for not wearing cologne," said Steve, sounding muffled.

"Pal, I think you sneezing in my face would be worse for me than for you," laughed Bucky, the sound rumbling through his chest.

"It's not my sexiest move," agreed Steve, burrowing deeper into the soft warmth of Bucky's body.

Steve hadn't expected that conversation would carry on easily while they were cuddling - he predicted awkward silences and a feeling of general embarrassment - but they continued chatting while Bucky carded his fingers through Steve's hair, and he felt himself dropping deeper and deeper into a calm state of relaxation.

"So why'd you become a lawyer?" asked Bucky in a low voice, barely breaking into the spell he was casting over Steve.

"Ma came over here from Ireland to work as a nurse," replied Steve drowsily, "and when my pa died, she ran into some trouble with some of her immigration paperwork. There was a lawyer who worked pro bono to stop her from getting deported... the guy really changed our lives."

"So now you help other people the same way."

"I try to. How'd you get into professional cuddling?"

"After I got out of the army, I used to go for counseling sessions at the VA. Took a couple of years, but eventually I started on a course to be a counselor myself. A lot of those guys are so touch-starved, you know? My friend got the idea to start up a cuddling service and I jumped at the chance. It's been my full-time job for three years now."

Digesting this information, Steve was silent for a moment. He wouldn't have pegged Bucky as a soldier given how open and relaxed he was, but Sam didn't seem like an air force pilot, so you never knew. He cast around for a follow-up question. "Are there a lot of cuddling agencies in the world?" he settled on eventually.

"Oh yeah, it's a real growth industry. There's even a book called the Cuddle Sutra."

Steve scoffed. "You're kidding me, people write books about this stuff?"

Bucky cuffed him gently on the back of the head. "Shut up, punk. That's my profession you're besmirching."

"Are you allowed to tell your clients to shut up?" smirked Steve, never happier than when he was being a little shit.

"Only if they're being a punk," grumbled Bucky, wrapping an arm around the back of Steve's shoulders to pull him closer.

Over the course of the next forty five minutes, Steve learned more about Bucky's family, his asshole cat, his collection of semi-dead succulent plants, and his opinions on the present administration of the country. Bucky managed to wheedle Steve into talking about the bullying he faced at work, the stress of not having as many resources as he needed to help everyone he worked with - and he very nearly managed to get him to disclose his mother's recipe for shepherd's pie, and was only stopped by the threat that the ghost of Sarah Rogers would haunt him until he died.

Between the cozy warmth of Bucky's body, the soothing cadence of his voice, and the way his minty breath ghosted over Steve's forehead when he chuckled, Steve was pretty much in heaven, wrapped up in comfort. When Bucky's phone started to vibrate in his pocket, they both let out a little noise of annoyance. 

"'Fraid that's my alarm. How'd you enjoy your first session?" asked Bucky, still stroking lines down Steve's back.

Steve hummed contentedly. "Worth every penny," he replied, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head.

"I'm really glad," said Bucky sincerely, squeezing his shoulder before standing up and heading towards his shoes. "Same time next week?"

"That'd be perfect. Thanks, Bucky. For everything."

"No problem," he replied with a genuine grin, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Now I'd better call Maria before she gets the cops after me to make sure I haven't been murdered in a back alley somewhere."

"I'm glad they care so much about your safety."

"I love my job," laughed Bucky as he let himself out the front door, waving goodbye to Steve as he put the phone to his ear.

Steve spent some time smiling and waving like a goof until Bucky rounded the corner, at which point he finally shook himself awake and shut and locked his door. It was only eight PM but after a few nights of fractured sleep he was ready to follow his relaxed, sleepy feeling straight to bed. 

After he pottered around the room, straightening up and putting things away, he brushed his teeth and jumped onto his big, comfortable bed, where he rolled himself up in his comforter like a burrito. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's week continued as normal after his appointment with Steve - appointments with his regulars, messing about at the gym, being consistently outsmarted by Alpine - except that, every once in a while, he'd remember that shy smile, spitfire attitude and messy blond hair, and grin to himself. The way he'd immediately melted into Bucky's embrace showed just how touch-starved his newest client was, and Bucky couldn't wait to get back in there and help Steve get back in touch with his cuddly side. He couldn't help but feel admiration for this plucky little guy fighting back against a corrupt administration in a toxic work culture, all in pursuit of what he thought was right. 
> 
> Steve being cute, hilarious, and smelling nice were entirely incidental.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything I know about the American legal system I learned from courtroom dramas so... I don't know a lot about the American legal system.

Bucky's week continued as normal after his appointment with Steve - appointments with his regulars, messing about at the gym, being consistently outsmarted by Alpine - except that, every once in a while, he'd remember that shy smile, spitfire attitude and messy blond hair, and grin to himself. The way he'd immediately melted into Bucky's embrace showed just how touch-starved his newest client was, and Bucky couldn't wait to get back in there and help Steve get back in touch with his cuddly side. He couldn't help but feel admiration for this plucky little guy fighting back against a corrupt administration in a toxic work culture, all in pursuit of what he thought was right. 

Steve being cute, hilarious, and smelling nice were entirely incidental.

Still, by the time Saturday came around, Bucky would admit to being fairly excited. He took some extra care with his appearance, fussing with his man-bun and carefully selecting a pair of matching polka dot socks. When he knocked on Steve's apartment door, his breath was taken away for a second on seeing Steve in a sharp, pin-striped suit, his hair slicked back neatly, his nose and the tips of his ears bright pink from the cold air outside.

"Hey, Bucky, come on in, sorry for the wait. I've just walked in the door," he said, sounding a little breathless.

"Busy day, huh? You still want therapy today, or do you want to reschedule?" he asked tentatively, hovering on the threshold.

"Running around town all day trying to sort out some paperwork that for some _ungodly reason_ needs to be submitted in person. Please, come on in, I could do with relaxing after all that."

Bucky smiled as he closed the door behind himself, toeing off his shoes to leave by the mat. "Sounds like a hell of a day."

"It's bad enough that they still insist on using _fax machines_ in this day and age," grumbled Steve, throwing his hands up in the air. He pulled an inhaler out of the pocket of his jacket and took a couple of puffs, holding his breath each time and counting to ten on his fingers. "Sorry, my lungs don't like the cold," he explained, heading over to the fake fireplace to switch on the heat and the soothing, flickering light, turning on some other low, warm lighting and dimming the main light before pulling out a fluffy blanket from a trunk and spreading it over the couch.

Bucky let out a low whistle. "This place is next-level cozy. You should teach a class."

The way that Steve's ears turned even pinker at the compliment was adorable. "Speaking of cozy, do you want a hot chocolate? I could do with something warm to drink."

"That sounds amazing," said Bucky, dropping onto the couch and subtly rubbing his hands over the soft throw. "Seriously, I would pay like fifty bucks for a class on this."

Steve laughed, starting to relax for the first time. "I hope you don't mind that it's dairy-free."

"Never look a gift horse in the mouth," breezed Bucky, waving a hand before spreading out his arms on the back of the sofa, making himself comfortable. "How'd you make it?"

"It's pretty straightforward," said Steve over his shoulder, clanging around overhead to find a saucepan and grabbing the ingredients from the fridge. "You heat up some oat milk, add some sugar, and melt some dark chocolate in it. Sometimes I use mint or orange chocolate but I'm all out, so you're getting plain."

"Oh, I'm not good enough for the fancy chocolate? I see how it is," laughed Bucky.

"You watch your tone, young man," said Steve, pointing a spray can at him threateningly, "or I won't let you have any dairy-free cream-style food-related whipped topping."

"I could make a dirty joke about 'whipped topping' there, but I'm a professional."

The process of assembling the drinks involved several steps - pouring the hot chocolate from the saucepan to a couple of mis-matched mugs, using a tiny whisk to froth the oat milk, placing the exact right number of vegetarian marshmallows on top, spraying on the cream, and then grating over a little bit more chocolate, just for a flourish.

It took every ounce of Bucky's dubious professionalism not to make sex noises when he took his first sip of the sweet, satisfying concoction, but Steve was giving him a look like he could tell what he was thinking. 

"You like it?"

Holding up a finger, Bucky took another big sip, savoring the taste with his eyes closed. "Stevie, I am in heaven," he sighed, throwing his head back.

Steve grinned, a mustache of cream on his upper lip. Bucky strongly tamped down the compulsion to reach over and wipe it off with his thumb.

"I'm just going to change into something more comfortable," said Steve, heading to the bedroom with his drink. "Won't be long."

Caught up in the rhapsody of his magical hot chocolate, Bucky barely noticed him leaving, but by the time he was setting his empty mug on the table, Steve was ambling back into the room, looking much more cuddly in a pair of thermal leggings, and a hoodie that was two sizes too big for him. 

"What's the picture?" asked Bucky, gesturing at the print on the front of Steve's hoodie of a scruffy bear wearing a hat and duffel coat, with a battered suitcase at his feet. 

Steve laughed. "That's Paddington Bear. My ma used to read me the stories when I was a kid. He traveled to London from Peru, and a family found him at a train station and took him in. He's my second favorite immigrant, after her."

"That's such a sweet story," said Bucky, his heart melting under this barrage of military-grade sincerity. "C'mere." He took hold of Steve's hands to gently pull him towards the couch and then yelped when he felt how cold they were. "Are you a lizard?" he shrieked, rubbing Steve's frigid hands between his warm ones.

"Bad circulation," said Steve sheepishly, shuffling closer.

"It's like your blood literally isn't even _trying_."

Steve huffed a laugh. "Jerk."

"OK, this is an emergency situation. I'm gonna lie on my side here and you're gonna put your hands under my arms to warm up. I assume your feet are cold, too?" Steve nodded. "Alright, just slot them between my shins here," he said, lying back. Steve reluctantly got into position, still acting stiff and a little annoyed at being offered help, but once his cold toes were snug between Bucky's legs and his fingers were tucked into his armpits and his cold nose was poking into the junction between his neck and shoulder, Bucky felt him relax.

"That better?" murmured Bucky, wrapping his arms around Steve's slim shoulders and rubbing up and down his arms. Steve made a disgruntled noise in response.

"I don't need to be babied," he grumbled, the sound muffled by Bucky's sweater. "I can take care of myself."

"Hey, if you don't want my spare body heat I can always-" started Bucky with a smirk.

"No!" whined Steve, burrowing closer into Bucky's body.

"That's what I thought," murmured Bucky into Steve's hair, hands rubbing up and down his back as he felt his skin slowly warming up. "How bad's your asthma?" he asked after a while.

"It varies a lot, but... yeah, it's pretty bad. Spent a lot of my childhood in and out of hospitals."

Holding his breath, Bucky counted backwards from ten to stop himself from squeezing Steve tight to his chest and never letting go. "No wonder you don't like being fussed over."

"Sorry for being prickly," said Steve. Bucky could feel his nose wrinkling against his neck. "I just hate it when people think I'm incapable, you know?"

Bucky felt a swell of appreciation in his chest. "Pal, you managed to get through all that and pass the bar exam? I imagine anyone who thinks you're incapable lives to regret it."

A half-hearted chuckle. "Thanks, Buck."

"Where do you keep your inhalers?" asked Bucky, struck with a sudden thought.

"There's one in the basket under the coffee table, a couple in my nightstand and one in my jacket, usually. Why?"

"I'll take note in case I have to make a heroic rescue."

"My savior," snorted Steve.

"Seriously though, how'd you manage to study through all that?"

Steve shrugged self-effacingly. "I have a pretty good memory, and I used to get the nurses to quiz me on stuff. One of my teachers used to come visit me to bring my homework and he'd help me with anything I was stuck on."

"Still, you must have been really dedicated."

"I guess," conceded Steve. 

Preening with his victory, Bucky now made it his mission for the rest of their session to shower Steve with as many compliments as he could get away with. He could tell when he'd gone too far by the way Steve stiffened up in his embrace, and made sure to temper his honey-sweet words with a few friendly insults. If he had his way, Steve's self esteem would be high as _fuck_ by the time they finished. 

Steve gave as good as he got, however, and Bucky was informed in short order that he was very funny, had soft and silky hair, smelled very nice, and was the biggest asshole on the planet. The conversation was punctuated with belly laughs, undignified snorts, and flicked ears. Once Steve's hands had reached a more acceptable temperature - prompting Bucky to declare him to be a real mammal - he started stroking gently along Bucky's back, which felt lovely. By the time Bucky's alarm sounded, he had his nose buried in Steve's hair and was almost dozing, their murmured conversation taking on a slow, lazy cadence.

"Mmph," he said indistinctly, stretching out his neck and back in an attempt to wake himself up. "Time to wake up."

"This has all been a dreeeaaam," yawned Steve.

"Oh, so that means I'm not an asshole in real life?"

"Sometimes dreams are prophetic."

They traded more affectionate barbs as Bucky got his coat and shoes back on, and he waved back to Steve as he walked away with a goofy smile on his face.

* * *

When Steve opened the door the next Saturday, he winced as Bucky gasped in alarm.

"What the hell happened to your face?" demanded Bucky, closing the door behind him and kicking off his shoes.

"It's not as bad as it looks, really," said Steve, trying to make light of the situation. "I got into an altercation outside a bar last night and the guy got a couple of good hits in."

"Can you even see out of this eye?" said Bucky, examining Steve's swollen face. He did have a pretty epic black eye and a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing he hadn't dealt with before.

"Not yet, but the swelling should have gone down before work on Monday," replied Steve with confidence based on extensive experience.

Bucky's eyes narrowed and he regarded Steve with disapproval. "You get a lot of black eyes in your line of work?"

"The guy was hassling a lady!" insisted Steve, getting angry about it all over again. "I had to step in, it wasn't right."

"What, you let him beat on you so she could run away?"

"No, I dropped him on his ass and sat on him until the cops arrived," he responded with some pride. "He just got a couple of good hits in before I did."

Bucky looked suitably impressed. "You a black belt in karate or something?"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I've got a blue belt in Judo but honestly, he was pretty drunk and I basically just pushed him over."

Bucky's concerned face broke into a grin as he started giggling. "Now I'm imagining some drunken prick trying to get away while your twink ass keeps him on the ground."

"Hey, I've had no complaints about this ass," insisted Steve, before turning beetroot red. "I mean-"

"I'm sure you haven't, pal," said Bucky easily, breezing past Steve's embarrassment. "You got an ice pack?"

"Yes, ma," grumbled Steve, heading dutifully to the freezer. 

"How do you feel about us cuddling in your bed? That way you won't have to worry about falling off the couch if you drop off to sleep."

Steve's brain short-circuited for a moment at the idea of having this muscular specimen of male perfection pressed up against him in bed, before he managed to answer. "If you're comfortable with that, it's fine by me."

"That's great," said Bucky, dazzling him with his thousand-watt smile. "You'll need your rest if you want your body to heal by Monday."

"I didn't sign up for the mother hen package, you know."

"You're such a _punk_ ," groaned Bucky, rolling his eyes as he followed Steve into his neat, cozy bedroom. There was a lamp on the nightstand letting out a low, warm glow, lighting up the cream colored walls and the dark blue soft cotton sheets. Bucky let out an entirely different groan when he lay down on the mattress, sliding his body under the thick duvet. "This is the best mattress I have ever met," he said rapturously. 

"The mattress is nothing to write home about," shrugged Steve, climbing into the other side of the bed. "It's the topper that really makes it special."

"I'm definitely buying one of these," declared Bucky, rolling over to face him. Gently, he took the ice pack from Steve's hands and held it to his bruised face, making him hiss at the cold. "OK, tough guy. You want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?"

"Will you think I'm less manly if I say the little spoon?"

"Most of my male clients want to be the little spoon, so I think your masculinity is safe."

Steve snorted and rolled over, taking the ice pack from Bucky and pressing it obediently to his eye. Bucky slid one hand under the pillow and wrapped the other arm around Steve so that his hand was resting on his stomach, his warm chest pressed against Steve's back. Despite a momentary fear that he would pop a boner that his sweatpants would be unable to conceal, Steve felt himself relax into Bucky's embrace, enjoying the tickle of his minty breath on the back of his neck.

After a while, the ice pack started to melt and become unpleasantly drippy, so he dropped it on the floor, then interlaced his fingers with Bucky's hand where it rested on his stomach, pulling his arm more tightly around him, and snuggled backwards into his body. He heard Bucky's breath hitch a little before he cuddled in closer, his face coming to rest against the back of Steve's neck. Steve could have sworn he felt the press of Bucky's lips where his collar met his skin, but he must have been imagining it.

He spent the next hour hovering in that liminal space between sleep and waking, where time stretches and everything turns hazy and warm. He was all wrapped up in Bucky, his clean scent and comforting presence surrounding him, chasing away all of his worries. Bucky's hand drifted over his body, stroking his hair, rubbing his arm, smoothing over his chest, holding his hand gently.

He was only vaguely aware of Bucky's alarm when it started to chime and was immediately silenced. Slowly, quietly, Bucky slipped out of his bed, tucking the covers back in around Steve's body, and turned off the bedside lamp, before carding his fingers once more through Steve's hair and leaving the room. Steve hummed happily and let sleep take him away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's eyes narrowed as he sized up his opponent. Carefully, with the kitchen tongs in one hand and a tupperware box in the other, he advanced on the mouse where it was huddled against the wall.
> 
> "We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way," he said, sounding tougher than he felt. In fact, he was about thirty seconds away from standing on a chair and screaming for Alpine - who was cementing her personal brand as the world's most useless, spoiled cat by being asleep on her favorite armchair - to rescue him.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he sized up his opponent. Carefully, with the kitchen tongs in one hand and a tupperware box in the other, he advanced on the mouse where it was huddled against the wall.

"We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way," he said, sounding tougher than he felt. In fact, he was about thirty seconds away from standing on a chair and screaming for Alpine - who was cementing her personal brand as the world's most useless, spoiled cat by being asleep on her favorite armchair - to rescue him.

The mouse let him get within a few centimeters of it before darting to the side and scurrying behind one of the cabinets.

Bucky let out a string of imaginative curse words before rubbing a hand over his face, giving up, and getting out the peanut butter to bait the humane mouse traps with.

"You are a disgrace to your species," he said to Alpine, who rolled over and started leisurely licking herself.

He threw himself down onto the couch and started to flick through TV series, trying to choose what to watch. Bucky's apartment was technically very nice - big, lots of natural light, tastefully furnished - but he hadn't made a lot of changes to the place since he moved in a year ago and it almost seemed like someone else's apartment. For the last few weeks, though, he'd found himself stopping into homeware stores on his way home and picking up little bits and bobs - here a knitted throw, there some mood lighting - and he was starting to feel pretty cozy in his space. 

It could be argued that he was turning his home into a carbon copy of Steve's, only with more cat hair.

Alpine made a chirruping noise and he looked over to see her chewing enthusiastically on the toy Steve had bought for her, "just because". Seeing the blush dusting Steve's cheeks when he handed it over had been a wonderful gift in itself.

Bucky was finding it harder and harder during their sessions to stop himself from brushing Steve's messy hair away from his face and peppering his pink cheeks with kisses, but he was a goddamn _professional_ and he wasn't going to kiss his client unless Steve kissed him first.

He was really hoping that Steve would kiss him first.

* * *

"Door's open!" yelled Steve from the kitchen when he heard Bucky knocking. "Come on in, I need a guinea pig."

Bucky's smile was a welcome sight as he made his way into the apartment, bringing the fresh smell of autumn in with him. "You're not about to poison me, are you?"

"Who knows?" shrugged Steve cheerfully, stirring the concoction in his saucepan. Bucky crowded in behind him to lean over him, his curtain of hair brushing over Steve's cheek, and take a deep sniff.

"What is it? Smells amazing," said Bucky nonchalantly, as though he wasn't giving Steve heart palpitations at this casual intimacy.

"Vanilla, oat milk, cocoa butter, white sugar," said Steve distractedly, fishing around in a drawer for a couple of teaspoons. "Here, have a taste."

He very studiously did not look when Bucky licked the spoon clean, but he couldn't help but overhear his moan of appreciation.

"Stevie, you're a genius," declared Bucky, going in for another spoonful but being thwarted by Steve whacking his hand.

"Let me serve it up," Steve explained when Bucky turned the full force of his pouty face on him.

"Guinea pigs get treated better than this," grumbled Bucky good-naturedly. 

"I'll find you some sawdust in a minute," replied Steve, pouring the drink into two mugs and topping them with dairy-free cream and caramel sauce. Bucky accepted his hot drink reverently, cupping it carefully in both hands and walking gingerly to the couch to take his first sip.

Steve felt a wave of affection as he watched Bucky emerge from sticking his whole face into his drink, an absurd blob of cream on his nose. 

"Oh my God," moaned Bucky. "This is exactly what I imagined Butterbeer tasted like when I read Harry Potter. Like white chocolate and happiness."

He promptly applied himself to his drink once more and no more conversation was forthcoming until he'd taken the last sip. He leaned his head back against the couch, in a blissful world of his own.

"You got any new positions to try this week?" asked Steve. Bucky had turned up the last couple of weeks full of cuddling innovations that he'd read about in books and wanted to try out. As expected, he beamed on hearing the question.

"I sure do! This is a sitting up one. C'mere and put one knee either side of my legs, facing me."

Once upon a time, Steve might have felt uncomfortable straddling the lap of a handsome man in his living room, but thanks to Bucky's calming influence he only forgot how to breathe for a few seconds before his brain came back online and he found himself sitting in Bucky's lap, ass perched on those muscular thighs. Tenderly, Bucky cupped the back of his head and directed him to rest against his shoulder so they were cheek to cheek.

"Feel good?" murmured Bucky, wrapping his other arm around Steve's shoulders. 

The word 'good' was wholly inadequate to describe the way Steve felt when he was in Bucky's embrace. It was a new, delicate feeling that bloomed in his chest - he felt cherished, precious, protected. He hummed in appreciation. "Mmm. Good."

"Did you know that cuddling releases oxytocin, which is the same chemical that's released after childbirth and after orgasm?" said Bucky softly, being an enormous nerd.

"Sounds about right," said Steve without thinking, then buried his face in Bucky's shoulder to hide his blush. Bucky's answering chuckle was light and friendly. 

"People need to be touched," whispered Bucky, combing his fingers through Steve's hair, rubbing just his fingertips over his scalp. "It's primal."

Steve, entirely incapacitated by the tingly feeling in the back of his neck, just slumped helplessly against Bucky's solid warmth and rotated his head so that Bucky's fingers could reach every part.

As they relaxed against each other - Bucky sliding a little further out from the back of the couch, Steve's knees burrowing deeper into the cushions - Steve found himself inching further and further along Bucky's perfect thighs without really noticing until he realized he was sitting pressed right up against him, his legs splayed wide around Bucky's hips and their crotches a hair's breadth away from touching.

His instincts were screaming out to him to close the gap so they could grind against each other, slow and dirty, but he managed to hold himself back. Conversely, it would be too obvious if he tensed up or tried to move backwards and away from Bucky's mysterious and tempting dick, so he did his best to stop worrying and just enjoy the feeling of being wrapped in Bucky's arms. 

He was successful in this endeavor for a little while, until some small movement of their bodies relative to each other brought their groins in direct contact and he heard Bucky make a sharp intake of breath. Pleasure and anxiety sparking through him, Steve was frozen for a moment before giving a small, involuntary roll of the hips, which drew a beautiful moan from deep in Bucky's chest.

He raised his head and looked at Bucky's face. His pupils were blown wide and his red lips were parted just a little, shiny as though he'd been licking them. 

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as they inched closer and closer together, Bucky's hands still rubbing mindless circles on Steve's back, until Bucky's phone started making an obnoxious buzzing noise.

"That's your alarm," whispered Steve, his eyes focused on Bucky's mouth.

"Mhm," agreed Bucky with a glazed sheen to his eyes, not looking away.

"You should, um," said Steve, coming to his senses a little. "You should probably get that."

"OK," said Bucky obediently, sounding dazed. He shook himself and then reached into his back pocket to silence his phone. The spell broken, Steve unfolded himself inelegantly from the couch and stood, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Bucky took a little time to stand up, still looking somewhat disorientated. "I'll, um, I'll put on my shoes."

"They're by the door."

"Yeah."

The silence stretched out uncomfortably while Steve watched Bucky tying his shoelaces. Bucky looked back up at him when he was finished, a small half-smile on his face.

"Same time next week?" he said in a more normal tone of voice.

"That's great," said Steve, meeting Bucky's eye bravely with a smile of his own. They looked at each other for probably longer than was normal before Bucky turned to leave, giving a little wave as he exited down the hallway.

Steve closed the door after watching him walk away, rested his forehead against the wood, and sighed, before heading to the bedroom for a sorely-needed wank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think I should up the rating to Mature?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let's start a café," said Bucky dreamily. "A café that only serves hot chocolate."
> 
> "We could call it Hot n' Creamy," replied Steve, making Bucky snort into his drink.
> 
> "Who's hot and who's creamy?" he asked after surfacing, a teasing smirk on his lips.
> 
> "You're the creamy one," laughed Steve, giving into the temptation to wipe the whipped topping from Bucky's upper lip, sweeping his thumb over the soft skin.

Steve spent the next week alternating between walking around with a spring in his step, a secret little smile hovering around his lips, and being gripped with sudden self-doubt. _Something_ was happening between him and Bucky, and the anticipation before their next meeting was delicious. 

Unfortunately, the fates were conspiring to interrupt his plans.

"Hey, Buck," sighed Steve when the phone connected. He was leaning on a wall outside his apartment building, shivering a little in the brisk evening air.

"Hey! What's up, Stevie?" said Bucky's warm voice, sending tingles through Steve's body.

"There's a carbon monoxide leak in my building, they want us out of the place all evening so they can air it out and fix the boiler," said Steve, trying hard not to sound petulant as he kicked a pebble vindictively down the road.

"Oh man! I hope you didn't breathe any of it in."

Steve chuckled. "I think I'm safe. But unless you want to do our session in a coffee shop or the New York Public Library..."

"I bet that wouldn't be the weirdest thing that's ever happened in that library," Bucky interjected, laughing.

"Or I guess we could go to a hotel?" offered Steve hopefully, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"How about my place?" said Bucky immediately. "I live pretty near you, got a nice big couch."

"Sure," said Steve, a little breathless at the idea of seeing Bucky's private space. "Text me your address, I'll be there in half an hour."

He stopped off at a grocery store during his walk to Bucky's and picked up some ingredients. When he reached Bucky's building - a fairly ordinary-looking apartment block over a coffee shop - he hesitated a second to check that he was precisely on time before pressing the buzzer.

Bucky's crackly voice broke into the intercom. "Steve! Come on up, I'm on the third floor."

When he walked inside, Bucky was grinning down the stairwell, easing Steve's nerves somewhat. 

"Come on in," said Bucky when Steve reached the top of the stairs. "Don't mind Alpine. She hates everyone."

Alpine, a stunning white cat with regal bearing, was regarding the newcomer with suspicion while aggressively headbutting Bucky's shins. Immediately forgetting why he was there, Steve dropped into a crouch and held a hand out to her, making _pspspsps_ noises and blinking slowly until she cocked her head at him. He clearly managed to pique her curiosity, and she stalked over to sniff his fingers, even deigning to let him scratch her under the chin before turning up her nose and leaving to inspect her food bowl.

Bucky made a small, impressed sound, reminding Steve where he was. He looked up to see Bucky beaming at him.

"Cat whisperer," he said, fondness lacing his voice.

"She's beautiful."

"She's an asshole and she has no respect for me," snorted Bucky. "But yeah, she is the prettiest princess."

"I brought ingredients for a new drink," said Steve, standing up and gesturing with the shopping bags. "Can I use your stove?"

"Stevie," said Bucky. There was something indescribably soft about the way that his mouth caressed the syllables. "You didn't have to do that."

"Don't thank me yet," grinned Steve. "This is an experimental recipe."

"OK, fine," amended Bucky, leading the way to the kitchen. "I will thank you if you don't make me blind or something."

Bucky's apartment was an odd mixture of lived-in and minimalist, with classy wooden furniture and sleek lines, interspersed with fuzzy blankets and cat toys. Steve noted with interest the big, deep couch, and a couple of bookshelves bursting with science fiction novels and books about different types of therapy. 

The kitchen was well-appointed but, with the exception of the coffee maker, seemed to have been barely used. Bucky pulled him out a saucepan and two mugs.

"Teach me the ways of your hot beverages, oh great and powerful Steve," he said, bowing low.

"Alright," said Steve, handing him a package. "You chop up half of this bar of orange chocolate into little pieces, I'm gonna start heating up the oat milk and mixing together the spices."

"Spices?" asked Bucky, grabbing a chopping board and knife and doing as he was told.

"Cinnamon, ginger, allspice, cardamom," said Steve, placing the jars on the counter as he spoke. "I figured, they go well with orange, and it's not like adding chocolate can make any combination worse, right?"

By the time they'd finished making the drinks, sprinkling extra spice mix and grating chocolate over the top of the creamy topping, and Bucky had as usual buried his entire face in his mug, Steve could fairly confidently say that the experiment was a success. It was the right mixture of comforting and luxurious, rich with chocolate and homely with spices and orange.

"Let's start a café," said Bucky dreamily. "A café that only serves hot chocolate."

"We could call it Hot n' Creamy," replied Steve, making Bucky snort into his drink.

"Who's hot and who's creamy?" he asked after surfacing, a teasing smirk on his lips.

"You're the creamy one," laughed Steve, giving into the temptation to wipe the whipped topping from Bucky's upper lip, sweeping his thumb over the soft skin.

Bucky's tongue darted out to lick the cream from Steve's thumb, and he hummed in agreement. "You _are_ the hot one," he purred.

"Flatterer," huffed Steve, rolling his eyes and finishing off his drink to distract himself from the blush coloring his cheeks.

"Right," announced Bucky, slurping down the last of his hot chocolate and grabbing Steve's hand. "Let's get to cuddling."

Steve's fingers felt right slotting between Bucky's, and he allowed himself to be led over to the large, plush couch. Bucky lay down on his side and pulled until Steve's back was pressed against his front, two spoons nested together.

"How was your week?" asked Bucky, gently stroking up and down Steve's arm, his chocolatey breath tickling against the back of Steve's neck.

Steve burrowed closer, his feet finding the space between Bucky's calves and aimlessly rubbing up and down. "Not bad, actually. Had a few cases end all at once, got to do some cool courtroom theatrics."

"So you have some free time now?"

"I have to tie up some loose ends tomorrow, then I get a little breather."

"You gonna go on some wild adventures?"

"I'm going to finally get all of my laundry done."

"Oooh," teased Bucky. "Save some fun for the rest of us, rock star."

"You realize I can see your box of hand-made cat toys from here, right?" said Steve, lazily waving towards a cardboard tub full of pom poms, ribbons and sticks glued together.

"Shut up, punk," grumbled Bucky, flopping down to rest his head on his arm, pressing his nose into the back of Steve's head. "My cat thinks I'm _very_ fun," he mumbled into Steve's hair.

"That's the cat who's over there licking her own ass, yeah?"

Bucky lifted himself up to scowl over at Alpine, who ignored him and continued to groom herself. "You're making me look bad," he hissed.

Steve laughed, startled by his own volume, and Bucky let out a huff of laughter of his own, settling his head back down so that he stirred Steve's hair with every breath.

Something about being inside Bucky's private space made their cuddling seem more intimate, more personal. Steve's heart felt like it was beating louder than usual against his chest, and each touch amplified, warmer and firmer.

In his gentle, coaxing way, Bucky got him talking about the mundanities of his week - how his cases had gone, whether he'd made that lasagna he was talking about last time, the way the washing machine won't take your quarters unless you thumped it - and Steve felt his worries slipping from his shoulders, the world narrowing to the warm little heap they made together on the couch. His breaths slowed to match Bucky's and he started to feel almost meditative, his thoughts drifting through like fallen leaves down a passing stream. 

Bucky was draped half on top of him by this point, one leg hitched over Steve's hip and his arm cradling him protectively, wrapping him up completely in his body. Steve, nestled in the warm cocoon of Bucky's presence, sighed happily, shifting around a little to find a comfortable position for his bony hip on the soft cushions. He stopped short when a movement brought his ass more firmly into contact with Bucky's crotch and he felt an unmistakable hardness pressing against him. 

Very deliberately, he gave an experimental wiggle, for which he was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and Bucky grinding against him, the hard line of his erection electrifying through the thin fabric of their pants.

Not wanting to push his luck, he stilled his body and digested this new information. His skin was prickling with excitement, but at the same time he felt deeply relaxed and in no particular hurry, happy to enjoy whatever sensual pleasures were on offer as the evening unfolded. He threaded his fingers through Bucky's and pulled his arm tighter around his chest, tilting his head down to invite Bucky to bury his face in the join between Steve's neck and shoulder, which he did. Neither of them seemed inclined to rush things - Bucky occasionally rocked his hips a little, Steve sometimes circled his own, and the little noises of pleasure they were both making mingled with the drowsy conversation they were somehow continuing about the merits of different types of fabric softener. Bucky was everywhere, stroking his thumb over Steve's collar bones, nuzzling into his neck, body warm and enticingly solid against his back. 

Time melted, and at a certain point Steve began to wonder if Bucky's alarm was ever going to go off, but couldn't bring himself to be upset about it. As the evening darkened into night, they began to drift off to sleep, safe and comfortable and wrapped up in each other.

The first time you spend a night asleep with a new partner is always a bit fractured - you have to muddle around together until you find a position that works for both of you. The first time Steve half woke up, slightly too warm, it was to make a little disgruntled noise and roll over, so that they were sleeping face to face on the couch. He promptly fell back to sleep and didn't notice when Bucky, woken by the feeling of Steve breathing on his face, rolled over so that he became the little spoon.

They slept quite companionably like that for an hour or so, until Steve began to shiver and burrowed his way into Bucky's armpit for warmth. Feeling Steve's cold body against him, Bucky rolled onto his back, pulling Steve into his chest and groping for a blanket from the arm of the couch, which he tenderly tucked around Steve's body. This seemed to be the winning formula, and they slept peacefully together until the early hours of the morning.

* * *

The first thing Steve noticed on waking up was that Bucky's dick was very hard against his thigh. The second thing he noticed was that he was in much the same predicament, and that the sleepy way that they were lazily rubbing against each other was incredibly nice. 

The third thing he noticed was Alpine plaintively meowing directly into his ear.

Bucky groaned and reached out a hand blindly to pet the cat on the head, simultaneously gripping Steve tighter with his other arm and rolling them away from the source of the noise. Steve found himself pressed between the back of the couch and Bucky's body, which was not an unpleasant way to start the morning.

"Hello," murmured Bucky, his voice thick with sleep.

"Mmm," hummed Steve, continuing to rub himself against Bucky's thick, muscular thigh. "Hi."

Bucky shuddered pleasantly and pressed against him harder, raising his head to look him in the eye, a sleepy grin spreading over his face. Steve was just reaching his hand up to brush the hair out of Bucky's face when Alpine decided to interject by slapping her paw into Bucky's eye.

"Christ!" yelped Bucky, reluctantly disentangling himself from Steve and rubbing his eye. "Fine, I'll feed you, you horrible gremlin." Grabbing Alpine around the middle, he held her to his chest with one arm with practiced ease as he walked to the kitchen and started preparing her breakfast. Docile now, she let out a satisfied purr and rubbed her face against him.

"Time is it?" said Steve through a yawn, groping for his phone, and then "Crap!" when he saw the clock. Jolted into action by a wave of anxiety, he leapt from the couch and started searching for his shoes. "I've gotta go, I'm meeting a client in an hour and I have to change and get my papers and get across town."

"Oh, crap," echoed Bucky, wiping the kibble dust from his fingers onto a cloth while Alpine applied herself to her food dish, audibly purring. "Sorry, I didn't think to set an alarm last night, and then it was so nice..."

"So nice," agreed Steve breathlessly, hopping around the floor gracelessly as he put on his shoes. Bucky strode across the room to grab Steve's jacket and hold it out for him, stroking his shoulders after he shoved his arms into the sleeves. His breath tickled the back of Steve's neck, and Steve turned around, resting his hand on Bucky's chest as he looked up into his eyes, enjoying the crooked smile on his handsome face. 

"Buck, I-" he started, before being interrupted by the shrill ringing of his phone. His eyes widened when he looked at the screen and he cursed again, shooting Bucky an apologetic look. "Sorry, I have to take this, and I have to run. I'll-" he stalled, looking into Bucky's hopeful blue eyes. "I'll call you," he promised, swiping to answer his phone and barreling out the door. 

"Fury? Yeah, I'm going to be about fifteen minutes late..."

**Author's Note:**

> [Subscribe to my profile to keep up to date with my fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diner_drama).
> 
> What were your favourite lines? Let me know in the comments.
> 
> I have a new multi-fandom tumblr as [diner-drama](https://diner-drama.tumblr.com/).


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